Never Too Late
by kitkatbar17
Summary: Helga has made a lot of mistakes in her lifetime. Finally things are starting to look up again, but her past still comes back to haunt her. When her daughter befriends an old classmate, she is certain the relationship is yet another dead end. But as fate would have it, Helga learns it is never too late for love. Arnold X Helga
1. Late Nights

**Never Too Late.**

**Authors Note: This is just a little story I wanted to write about Arnold and Helga. This is written in Helga's POV.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hey Arnold.**

* * *

"It's late, you should hit the sack," I tell my nine-year-old daughter. Today is her birthday, and she is still awake at 10:00 p.m. coloring at the kitchen table.

She groans at me, but picks up her colored pencils anyway.

I watch her. Nine years ago today, I brought her into the world. She is my life and my everything. I love her so much.

"Make sure you brush your teeth!" I call out to her as she walks to her room in our small home. "You don't want to end up with as many cavities as I did,"

She laughs and heads to the bathroom. I study the mail lying on the table.

Criminy, this is the third time this week I have received a letter from him. How he has found me, I have no idea, but I am certain I want absolutely nothing to do with him.

It has been almost 10 years since the biggest mistake of my life. I was desperate, and he showed up. God, how could I have been so stupid. As I hear the running water in the other room, I think of all the joy that lapse in judgment has brought me. Even so, I still hate him for leaving me.

Now he is trying to contact me again.

It has taken me all these years to finally get my life back in order. I am one semester away from finishing my degree, I am on track for getting my first novel published in a couple months. Moving back to Hillwood has brought Frankie to a better school, and she is actually succeeding. After such a long struggle things are actually looking up for once.

And now he wants back in.

I angrily rip up the letter and throw it into the trash. There is no way I am going to let him get involved in my daughter's life. Not now. Not ever.

The water stops running and I see the light in Frankie's room flicker off. I wander over to her room to tuck her in.

She looks up at me with her big blue eyes and says, "Mom, today was the best day ever,"

I smile, "Yep, and you'll have a great day tomorrow, _at school_. You need your rest,"

Her face grows more serious. "Friday is the daddy daughter dance at school," she states. "Everyone's going,"

I look at her. I know what it was like not to have a father around very much, but I don't know what it is like not to have one at all.

"But me," she adds. "I'm not going,"

My heart feels crushed. All I ever wanted is to give my little girl the world, but I can't.

"Dancing is stupid and girly. Who would want to do that kind of stuff anyway?" She says, sticking her tongue out.

As I lean down to kiss her good night, I wonder what it would actually be like to have a father around for her. A husband. Someone who actually cares for both of us.

I get up and gently close her door.

Such thoughts are fanciful and stupid, and I can only trust myself to take care of my little girl.

It is late, and for once I want to be asleep before midnight. I have to take Frankie and Phoebe's kids to school in the morning.

Brrrrriiiinnnng!

My cell phone rings. I hate when people called me at night. Either I am working, studying, writing or sleeping. Not chatting.

I answer with a gruff "Hello,"

"Helga?"

My heart thuds. I know that voice anywhere. It is…him.

"What do you want!?" I half yell.

"I-I wanted to know if…you had gotten my letters," The voice asks.

I scowl. "Of course I have, but they mean nothing to me!" I say angrily.

"Helga listen, I just want to see her! You have to understand…"

I hang up. I want nothing to do with him.

As I lay in bed tonight I feel an overwhelming sense of sadness. I hate when this happened. I will relive the pain of those hard times in my mind, replaying them over and over. How dare he try to come back to us! I roll over and hug my pillow in despair.

I wish he would leave us alone.

…

It is a chilly morning in Hillwood as Frankie and I step out the door. My legs feel sore from our adventure in ice skating yesterday. It is hard to believe I am 32. I already feel old and tired.

"Aunt Helga!" I hear a voice cry out. Two voices, actually. It's Jamil and Kailani. Phoebe's kids. Right, I am giving them a ride. Yeesh, I need to keep my brain in check. Behind them walks an obviously weary Gerald.

"Well Daddy-o, how ya feeling?" I tease him. Gerald must have been working the night shift at the station. He looks beat.

"Not too great, Helga," He gives me a tired smile and adds. "Thanks for taking these crazy kids of my hands!"

I laugh "No problem. Where is Pheebs? I was hoping to talk to her this morning,"

Gerald shrugs his shoulders. "Not sure" he replies, handing the book bags to his kids, who take off chasing each other around.

"Alright everyone in the car!" I yell. "Time to get this circus on the road!"

Jamal giggles as he pushed his little sister into the car. She scowls at him before bounding into the seat next to Frankie. Those two have been friends ever since we moved here last year.

I open my car door and throw my purse inside. I am about to get in when Gerald interrupts me.

"Oh, yeah," He says, shaking his head, "I forgot to tell you! Phoebe said that she was over helping our new neighbor move in. Arnold is back in town,"

It takes everything in me to keep my jaw from dropping. "He…is?" I stutter.

"Yeah," Gerald shrugs, obviously out of it. "Well, I'll see you later," He says, heading off to catch some Z's.

I get into my car and slam the door behind me. Staring straight ahead I think about the news I just heard.

I am stunned. It has been a long time since I have heard that name.

* * *

**Thanks for reading. If you liked it (or hated it) please review!**


	2. First Encounters

**Authors Note: Hi again! Read and Enjoy! I am slowly working on this story, and am trying to write as much as possible in the next week before school starts. **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

* * *

I am in class, trying to pay attention. But it's hard. All I can think about is Arnold. I wonder what he is like now, and if he is married, and if he…is happy.

Why am I thinking about him so much? I hadn't seen him since high school…since the summer after senior year, when he dumped me.

"…due by Monday at 12:00 p.m. don't forget!" I hear the teacher say.

Shit, I did not catch that. I don't care either. It's almost five and I need to pick Frankie up from the after school daycare. Then I need to hightail it home so we can eat some real food this week instead of crap. Not that I was a great cook or anything.

"Have a great weekend everyone!" I hear the professor say as she heads out the door. I leap out of my seat, shove my notebook into my bag, and rush to the parking lot.

Brrrriiinnng.

It's Phoebe. Whatever it is it can probably wait, I tell myself as I get into my car. The engine doesn't come on right away, but finally starts. One day that thing was going to give out on me.

I step on it and hit the road I have twenty minutes to get there.

…

"Hi, do you live here?"

A man whirls around to see a little girl with blonde, messy hair, wearing a blue skull cap, looking at him with one hand on her hips.

"Yes," He says, trying to be friendly. She looks familiar for some reason.

She sits down next to him. "So do I," She says. "I'm not supposed to talk to strange people, but you seem ok," she says, shrugging her shoulders. She flops her backpack down on the ground.

"That's probably not very wise," He tells her. "I could kidnap you or something," He adds.

She laughs at him. "Really? You're wearing a sweater. And what's up with those glasses?"

He chuckles. She is a feisty one for sure.

"You shouldn't judge a book by its cover,"

"Puh, my mom says cliché's are for lamewads who can think original thoughts," she fires back.

Pretty smart too, he concludes, unsure if he even knew what a cliché was at her age.

"My name is Francesca. Most people call me Frankie. What's yours?

"Arnold,"

"I like that name," She says.

…

I pull into the parking lot minutes before they close. I run up to Denise, who runs the facility. I see her locking up the doors.

"I'm here! I'm here!" I cry out. She gives me a strange look.

"Ms. Pataki? Your daughter was picked up several hours ago," she says.

"What?!"

"Yes, Mrs. Johanssen picked her up along with her two children,"

I am on the phone with Phoebe now.

"Pheebs! Where is Frankie?" I demand to her.

"Helga? I dropped her off at your house, she said you were home. I tried to call you and tell you the change of plans," I hear her say.

"Oh my God!" I shout "I'm not home! I had class today,"

"Ok, well don't panic. I'm sure she is ok…"

"Where are you?" I ask her. Maybe she is at home.

"I'm at gymnastics, with the kids. Gerald is at work,"

I drop the phone in my purse and get into my car. I have one thing on my mind.

I need to find Frankie.

…

"Why are you sitting out here in the cold," Frankie asks him.

He looks at her. She is looking at him intently with big blue eyes.

"I like to reflect. You know, think about things," He says. He expects her to laugh, but she doesn't.

"Yeah me too," she sighs. "I think about all kinds of things. Like my mom, my friends…and my dad," she adds the last part reluctantly.

Pretty strange for a little kid, Arnold thinks. He could hear the pain in her voice. Life had obviously not been easy for her. A twang of empathy resounded through him.

Life hadn't been very easy on him either.

…

I leap out of my car and race up the steps to my house. She's not there. She can't be, the door is locked. I glance around. I try not to panic, but I can't help it.

There, a ways away I see her bright blue skull cap. She is sitting on a bench, and next to her is a tall man.

"Frankie!" I yell, running over there.

She whirls around and hops up, "Mom, I-"

"Frankie you scared the crap out of me," I scoop her into my arms. "I was supposed to pick you up today! And what are you doing sitting out here in the cold. What were you thinking…"

A new voice cuts me off. One that sends chills down my spine.

"But nothing happened, so everything is ok. Don't panic,"

I slowly look up. It's…Arnold. I could hardly believe it. My heart is racing.

"Helga?" I hear him say. I look away. "Let's get you inside Frankie," I say, grabbing her backpack and scooting her along.

"Helga wait!" I hear him cry out. I want to ignore him, but I stop anyway.

"What is it?" I ask him, a little rougher than I mean to.

Wow, he is different then I remember him. What happened to his cute plaid shirt? He is wearing a blue sweater and khakis. Some boxy glasses frame his green eyes. He is tall. Taller then I remembered…

"I didn't know you moved back here," He says.

"Yeah well," I say and nervously laugh. "Life has been…hard, and Hillwood seemed like a good place to come…home to,"

He nods, as if he understands. Which he doesn't.

"Look, I gotta go," I say. "Maybe…we can talk more later," which is my famous way of saying I won't see you very much after this.

I usher Frankie inside. I want to yell and scream at her, but I can't. All I can think about is Arnold. "Go do your homework," I tell her, and head to the kitchen to make dinner.

I open the freezer and pull out a bag of chicken breasts. I really don't know how to cook them, so I follow the instructions on the bag. Breadcrumbs, check. Oven heated to 400, check. In oven for 40 minutes, check. I throw in some potatoes to bake to, praying the cook in time, and then settle down to work on my own assignments.

Near 6:00 I hear a knock at the door. It's Arnold.

"What do you want Arnoldo?" This time I am sure to keep my voice friendly.

"I thought you guys might like some cookies," He says, handing me a small plate.

"Thanks," I reply. They were still warm and I can see the steam on the plastic wrap.

He stands there, awkwardly, as if hoping I would invite him in. Fat chance.

"Look, it's really nice seeing you and all, but I'm a little busy right now…" I say.

"Yeah, of course. I guess I will see you later,"

God dammit, why did he always have to be so nice?

I close the door and then burry my nose in the plate. Mmmm they smell really good. Chocolate chip.

I get Frankie to the table. My cooking is actually alright for once, although the potatoes could have probably used a little more time. After dinner we wash dishes. I wash, she dries.

"Mom," she says, "Do you know him?"

"Who?" I ask.

"Arnold,"

I remain silent for a moment before answering. "Yes, I knew him a long time ago,"

"Really?" She asks. "When?"

She is always full of questions. "Oh, back when I was in school,"

"He seems nice,"

I laugh. "He was always nice. He was like the psychologist for all of us crazy kids, always giving us advice,"

"Well, he is a psychologist now," She says. "And he needs help!"

I give her a funny look. "What do you mean?"

"Did you _see_ that sweater? That is _so_ '90s,"

I burst out laughing. "Yeah," I agree, "It is pretty bad,"

A knock at the door interrupts our laughter.

I'm feeling uplifted as I go to answer it. Maybe it's Arnold again. Those cookies had been good…

I open the door. It's not Arnold.

A bent over figure says, "Helga, I really need your help,"

* * *

**This is starting out a little bit slow, but Helga's baggage (and Arnold's) is going to show up a lot more in the next few chapters. Uh oh.**

**Who do you think is at the door? Who do you want to be at the door? Let me know!**


	3. Runs in the Family

**Author's Note: Fun Fact! I chose the name Francesca for Helga's daughter because that is the first name of the voice actor who voices Helga on the show. That's also why I chose the name Jamil for Gerald's son. Now let the craziness begin! Read and Enjoy :)**

Oh my God, not this again.

"Forget it," I spit at her. "I am not helping you,"

"Please," she gasps, "Baby sister, you have to help me,"

"No way, I am not letting my daughter see how messed up you have become, AGAIN!" I shout at her. I try to slam the door, but she wedges her foot inside.

"Please!" She begs me. Her eyes look glazed over. I can't tell if she is high, drunk, or actually sober for once, and I don't want to find out.

She has a bag with her. Shopping bags.

"Oh my God, Olga! What the hell is this stuff?!" I look inside. There is money. Quite a bit. This is low, even for her. Or maybe not. I am pretty sure she had done crap before.

She cries. She is literally on my doorstep weeping, "Baby sis, please help me. I don't know what to do!"

I actually feel sorry for her. I too had turned to family when I needed help desperately. And they had turned me away.

"I can't," is all I can say.

She finally realizes she isn't getting anywhere with me and scurries off. I close the door.

This wasn't the first time it had happened. This was the fifth time she had come to me. Once it was no money, twice it was no place to stay, and once she was just so out of it she didn't know where the hell she was. This was the first time she was running from the law. Not that possession of drugs was legal…

Was this a sign of how broken my family was? If it ever was one…

Miriam was dead. She had died three years ago, in a car accident. Although tragic, Helga couldn't help but feel that her mother was finally at peace after years of misery. Bob was trying to hold together his "beeper" business that was falling apart. And Olga…

Her once happy-go-lucky, optimistic, and lovely sister was an addict, living on the streets. One of these days she was going to get a call saying the police had found her body.

Some family.

"Mom, who was that?" Frankie asks, stepping out of the kitchen.

"It was…" I knew better than to say nothing. She would catch on. "It was some guy trying to sell something. Sheesh, don't they have anything better to do?"

She giggled and headed into the kitchen.

We continued to wash the dishes and I joked with her, but for me the evening was ruined.

Long after Frankie had gone to bed, I was still awake trying to finish the final changes to my novel my editor had suggested.

The story of my life was poured out onto these pages. Just under different names and places, and different situations. But it was all the same.

I was broken, and it was pretty clear that it ran in the family.

…

Another day, another dollar.

Today is Tuesday. And that means I have to get to my job.

I am a receptionist at the hospital, which basically means I deal with a LOT of paperwork. And by paperwork I mean bullshit. But, it pays the bills, and it sure beats working at McDonald's.

Tuesday also means its Pheebs turn to take the kids to school.

I make sure Frankie is bundled up and race her over next door.

Phoebe smiles at me, "Good morning Helga!" she greets chirpily. I smile back.

"You listen to Aunt Phoebe," I tell Frankie, "I will be at the after school place to pick you up at 5:30. Got it?"

She nods her head and runs off with Jamil and Kailani.

"I heard about what happened yesterday," Phoebe says.

"Wait, what?" How the hell did she know about my sister?

"Yeah, Arnold told me he brought you guys some cookies,"

I sigh in relief. She didn't know about THAT. "He did, and they were really good," I say.

Phoebe gives me the look. The look that means I should be telling her something. "What? He came over, brought me cookies, and that's it," I say.

"Uh, huh,"

"I'm serious, Pheebs,"

Not the look again.

"Look. Arnold is a good guy, I guess. But 'us' was a long time ago. I'm not interested in him anymore," I say.

"You mean, you aren't interested in possibly getting hurt again. Look Helga, I know you think that loving someone means you are going to lose them, but that's not true! You need to move on with your life…"

I cut her off, "Pheebs, I have lost EVERYTHING in life, and I almost lost Frankie too. I'm not going through it again," I can't deny she is right about that. But she's wrong that I need to move on…

It's time for her to get going, and she knows it.

"Ok, look, we need to get together some time, to talk you know," she says.

"Yeah, maybe we can talk later," My famous way of saying no.

"Helga!" She knows that line.

"Well, Pheebs. It's not like I have any free time! Between work and Frankie and school and the novel…"

Her car horn honks. It's Jamil in the driver's seat.

"Jamil!" Phoebe shrieks, running after him.

I wave at her even though she can't see me and walk to my car. I have to go too.

I didn't sleep well last night and I knew that today was going to be a long day.

…

"You again?" he says, as the young girl with the messy blonde hair and the blue skull cap comes wandering up to the bench.

"Yeah," she says, flopping her book bag down. "What are you thinking about today?" she asks.

"Lots of things. Mostly your mom," He tells her. Her eyes brighten.

"Really? Why are you thinking about her?"

"Well, because she is a lot different than the person I used to know. She is a lot more serious. She was a big prankster when we were kids,"

Frankie smiles. "She taught me everything I know," she says with a mischievous gleam in her eyes.

He smiles at her. She saw strength in her eyes that he didn't see in a lot of people, like she had overcome real trouble.

"What are you thinking about?" He asks her.

"What do you mean?"

"Well you said you like to think too, so what are you thinking about?"

She looks off into the distance before saying, "My dad,"

"He isn't around much is he?" Arnold asks her.

"No, I've never even met him," She sighs unhappily. "He left before I was born,"

"I never really knew my dad either," he replies.

"Really?"

"Nah, he died when I was a little kid."

Her eyes are full of sorrow when she looks at him. Suddenly she stands up. "Well, I hope you are better at tossing rings than you are at picking out clothes," she says, pointing to his outfit. "We are going downtown to the fall carnival and _you_ are going to win me a stuffed animal," she demands, grabbing his hand.

"Wait a minute!" He stops her. She puts her hand on her hips. "What about your mother? I'm not sure she would like…"

"Oh please, she won't even know. She's doesn't get home until six. I'm just a kid and I don't even get to act like a kid. I don't get to do anything fun ever," She pouts. She definitely knew how to push Arnold's buttons though. He felt sorry for her.

"Ok, but let's make it quick," He says, still unsure.

She hugs him, "Thanks Arnold! You're the best friend ever," and off she went, tugging him behind her. She was a stubborn one that was for sure…

Just like her mother, Arnold reflected.

…

I am driving home now. My gas light has been on for a while now, so I guess I need to stop.

I'm filling up my gas tank and I hear carnival music. It must be the fall festival downtown. Maybe I should take Frankie.

Then again, maybe not. I'm not sure if it will be good for her. Ice skating was enough.

I hear a shout coming from inside the store and I look up. I see three people running outside the store dressed in black with bandanas over their faces. The shopkeeper yells for someone to call the cops. I pick up my phone, but before I can dial I see one of the bandits trip and fall.

I'm about to go all 'old Betsy and the three avengers' on that punk. I might be older, but I still know how fight.

I run over there quickly, and pull the robber to his feet. He is shorter than me…

The bandana falls off his face, and it's no he…

I gasp and stare into the eyes of a criminal.

And into the eyes of my sister Olga. I let go of her, shocked out of my mind. She pauses a moment and then runs off. I let her get away.

"Mommy!" I hear a shriek behind me. I whirl around to see Frankie and Arnold standing behind me. Frankie runs into my arms, shaking with fear.

Arnold walks up to us. I look at him.

He knows.

**Hmm…that was a fun chapter. **

**If you like it review. If you hate it review anyway**

**Peace out!**


	4. The Set Up

**Author's Note: This chapter is a little bit shorter, but it's been one of my favorites to write. I am trying to keep in mind their personalities as well as their life experiences as I write about Arnold's and Helga's relationship. Boy is it hard! Enjoy :)**

* * *

It's time to talk.

I am at home drinking a cup of coffee. It is well after dinner, which Arnold had offered to pick up. And now, we are sitting at the table together while Frankie gets ready for bed.

"Helga,"

His voice is soft, yet firm.

I glance at him. I feel tired all through. I couldn't believe what had happened this afternoon. Not only had my daughter left school and walked home by herself, deliberately disobeying me, my own sister has proven herself to be a full-blown criminal.

"You didn't turn her in," he says to me.

I groan. "Arnold. She is a criminal, yes, but she is my sister. How could I turn her in?"

"Then why didn't you help her. You could have gotten her out of that situation. She needs rehab,"

"Oh please Arnold, don't get all psycho on me. What was I supposed to do? She is a hopeless druggie and has been for the past 10 years!" I say, frustrated.

"She came by here, didn't she?"

"I – I don't know what you're talking about," I say.

"She came here, asking you for help," He says again, his voice rising with accusation.

"Criminy, Arnold! How the hell do you know that?" I shout. Probably too loud. I didn't like to curse around Frankie.

"I'm a psychiatrist, Helga. These things are more common than you think,"

I want to shout at him. I want to tell him how stupid he was being, and that just because he was a psychologist, didn't mean he is some sort of genie who knew all my problems and could magically make it better.

And yet…I can't bring myself to do it. Deep down inside there is still that part of me that cares about him.

"And," I say, "Do you really know what it feels like? What that stuff does to a family? My mother was an alcoholic long before I could remember, and now Olga is following a similar path,"

"I have…a better idea than you think," he says.

He is hiding something, I can tell, but then again, so am I. A lot actually. He ran his hand through his short blonde hair anxiously thinking about something. Whatever was suddenly on his mind, it wasn't pleasant. I decide to change the subject.

"And that's one thing! Not to mention Frankie. I can't believe she would just run off from school like that!" I say. "And besides, why on earth would you just take her to the carnival?"

"Helga, she was going to go the carnival with or without me. But even if she did it's not that big of a deal. I mean, we used to run around town without supervision all the time when we were kids. It's not that different now," He says.

I know the truth though, but I can't bring myself to tell him. I can rarely bring myself to tell anyone, "Yeah, it's just that I worry…" I say, which is true. I do worry about her, constantly. I wonder if I worry so much about her because no one ever worried about me as a kid.

"She's a good kid! Really smart…she really takes after you," he says. I look into his eyes and smile. "Yeah, she does," I laugh.

"I like it when you smile," He says, grabbing my hand on the table. His touch feels like fire on my skin, and for some reason fear seems to leap into my heart. He smiles, but his eyes look sad and tired. I pull away.

"Maybe you should have thought about that before you so willingly dumped me back in high school," I tell him irritably.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! That is not how I remember it," he says defensively.

"Oh really, then how do you remember it, Mr. All-knowing?"

"You were the one who said you didn't think a long distance relationship would work!"

"No, I don't think so!" I say. "You were the one who clearly decided that he was headed in a very different direction than me. You even said so yourself!"

Arnold draws and irregular breath. "I hate fighting with you," he says.

"Oh please, Arnold. You hate fighting in general. You are utterly complacent!" I say to him, frustrated. How could we talk pleasantly one moment and fight the next?

"I'm utterly complacent? You let your sister get away today without even informing the authorities about her identity! Not only that, but you turned her away when she came to you for help beforehand. Talk about complacency! I have never known you to be so uncaring. You're either cold or fiery, not in between!"

"I don't need a lecture!" I growl at him.

He sighs. "You are so stubborn,"

I shrug my shoulders.

"So I guess I will let myself out," he says

"You know where the door is," I reply.

He gets up from the table and walks out. I don't move a muscle.

Frankie stood on the other side of the wall, having heard every word.

…

"Arnold, do you consider me a friend?"

He looks up. God dammit. It's Frankie. Her mother was going to kill me! Their argument last night was still on his mind.

"Yes, Frankie, I consider you to be a friend," He tells her, unsure why she is asking him.

"Then I need your help," she says, sitting down next to him. Her cheeks are rosy and she looks cold. "There's a dance at school and I want you to take me," she says. There is a seriousness about her that Arnold had never seen before.

"Why me? Don't you have any boys at school who would take you?" He says, smiling.

"No, Arnold," she says. "This is not that kind of dance. It's a father daughter dance and I want you to take me,"

Arnold feels shocked. "I – I guess so…but I don't know what your mother is going to say about it…"

"Oh, she probably isn't going to like it," Frankie says, shrugging her shoulders, "But I don't mind. And I expect you to pull yourself together, Arnold! Please wear something better than this…" she says gesturing to his outfit.

He laughs. "Ok, I'll do my best,"

"Oh boy, I'm gonna have to get Uncle Gerald in on this one,"

…

"Mom!" I hear Frankie yell as I am in the kitchen, working on my assignments for school.

"What?" I call out to her as she walks into the room.

"Is this going to work?" She says, coming in carrying a pink flowing dress. It's mine, and probably the only nice thing in my closet.

"Work for what?" I demand, taking it from her hands.

"Doi! The dance," she tells me, putting her hands on her hips like she always does. "You're coming with me and wearing this," I raise an eyebrow at her.

"Is this the daddy daughter dance thing?" I ask her.

She sighs at me impatiently. "Yes, mom, but they said we could bring another adult," she says. "Now how do you like it?"

"I don't know Frankie. Why don't you ask Uncle Gerald, I'm sure he would be happy to take you?" I tell her, eyeing the dress. Last time I had worn this…was when I was in high school, and was dating Arnold. I'm not fat or anything, but I'm pretty sure this thing is going to hug me more than it did last time I put it on.

"Mom! Uncle Gerald is taking Kailani, he can't take me too,"

I look at her. She is very fervent. "Fine," I agree. She is my everything, and there is no way I can let her be unhappy. If she wants me to take her to a stupid dance, then I will.

She claps her hands excitedly and snatches the dress back to hang it in the closet.

I smile at her as I watch her run down the hall way. I love her so much.

It finally grows late, and I pack up my stuff into by backpack. I hear a strange noise. It's almost like a tapping sound. I peek out the window into the street, but see nothing. Still, I can't help but feel a little nervous.

Maybe it was just some animal.

Either way, I double check to make sure the door is lock. Whatever it is, it just isn't sitting well with me.

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**A softy chapter, but fun anyway! **

**Shout out to all of you guys who are following and reviewing. I honestly was just going to quit writing this story, but you guys have encouraged me to continue! You are AWESOME!**


	5. A Moment in Paradise

**Author's Note: School is readily approaching me (like tomorrow) so I won't be able to update as often. I will probably have the next chapter posted soon though. Anyway, enough about me, enjoy the story!**

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It was the night of the dance, and I walked up the sidewalk with Frankie next to me. She had on a cute blue dress, and although it had taken some persuasion, I finally managed to get that famous blue skull cap off of her head. Instead her typically messy hair was in braids, courtesy of Phoebe, and she looked very pretty.

I couldn't say the same for me. Although I was all dolled up, I was completely uncomfortable. Especially in the silver heels my daughter made me wear.

We were about to walk in when I saw a familiar figure at the front door.

"Arnold?" I say in disbelief. "What are you doing here?"

"Um…Frankie asked me to come with her," he says.

"Really?" I ask her. I am shocked, but I really shouldn't be. I should have seen this coming.

"Of course! It's not like I am going to go in there and dance with my mother!" she says, grabbing both of our hands and dragging us inside.

Well, it's too late to turn back now.

The music is rather loud and poppy, and there are several daddy daughter couples already out on the dance floor. I see Gerald and his seven year old out on the dance floor. I burst out laughing as I watch Gerald busting some moves that he used as a kid.

"He is going to hurt himself doing that!" I hear Arnold say.

"I think he already has!" I reply, watching him stop to rub his hamstring.

Frankie grabs Arnold's hand and drags him onto the dance floor. He gives me a scared look, and I laugh. They look great together out there, and Frankie looks like she is having a great time, something that hasn't happened a lot over the past several years. I watch them dance, Arnold awkwardly holding her hands as Frankie spun around without a care in the world.

My smile vanishes. What if Frankie thinks Arnold is her real father?

The thought makes me feel ill. As she stares up at him with her giant blue eyes that were full of laughter, I can't help but feel this was my fault. I had never bothered to tell Frankie who her father was. In fact, I had hardly bothered to tell her much about him at all. Of course she would be curious.

The song is over, and I see Arnold help Gerald off limp off the dance floor as Kailani and Frankie trail behind them.

"We got a man down!" Arnold jokes as he helps Gerald into a chair.

I laugh at Gerald as he bemoans his pulled muscles. "Man, I was working it out there!" he said.

"You are the best, daddy!" Kailani cries, plummeting into his lap and he smiles. "Anything for you princess,"

Gerald is a big guy, but when it comes to his little girl he is a pushover.

Frankie dances two more rounds with Arnold, as he teaches her different dance steps, something I had never really done before. Not that dancing was really my thing.

I watch as they come off the dance floor. Frankie sits down in a chair. "I'm beat!" she says, but she really doesn't look that tired.

The music is just starting for the last song.

"Arnold, why don't you and mom dance together this time," she says, hopefully. Arnold looks at me and smiles, holding out his hand. "May I have this dance?" he asks.

"Real classy Arnoldo," but I accept anyway. My heart is beating faster as I feel his big take hold of mine. I expect it to be smooth, but instead it is calloused and firm, and there is a comfort in them I had never felt before. He is wearing that same silly half-lidded smile that he had back in high school. It used to drive me crazy then, but now I can't remember him without it.

It's a slow dance, and I see what Frankie is up to.

His touch is like fire on my waste and hand, and he slowly moves to the music. "That dress…you wore it on our first date, didn't you," he says.

I smile faintly, but I am nervous. I am usually calm and collective, fierce and fiery, but right now I am putty in his hands. Criminy, get yourself together, I remind myself.

"I'm sorry Frankie made you come tonight," I tell him. This whole thing had been a little out of my comfort zone.

"Sorry? Are you kidding? I don't mind at all. Frankie is probably the best kid I have ever met," he says, looking into my eyes.

His eyes are so pleasant to look at, but I can't help but turn away from them. There is something so familiar and friendly about them right now that makes me almost fearful. Frankie deserves his attention. She deserves the world, but I don't. I have done too many bad things in my life.

He draws me closer into him and I grow lost in his embrace, growing numb to the world around me. I feel his hot breath on my neck and it sends shivers down my back. "You are so beautiful," He whispers to me. For a moment, I do not want to leave. He is the best guy I have ever known, and in this moment, he cares about me.

But the moment is over, as the music draws down. Those minutes in paradise mean nothing. Whatever we had cannot be again. My life is just too messed up. There is an empty pang in my heart, and I suddenly feel very distant from him. As much I as I still care about him, there is a part of me that does not fully understand the person who he has become. Or the person I have become.

"I'm going to go get Frankie and head home," I tell him, staring down at the ground.

He lets me go, and says, "I'll see you later then,"

I turn around and scan the room for Frankie, but I don't see her.

"Gerald," I say, marching up to him, "Did Frankie go to the bathroom or something?" I ask.

He shakes his head, "I don't know, I didn't see her leave," he says.

I march into the women's restroom, but no one is in there. I scurry around the whole auditorium and then check the parking lot.

Frankie is gone.

"Arnold!" I yell, seeing him walking out the door.

"Helga! What's wrong?" He says, running over to me. I am panicking. I know I shouldn't, but I am.

"I can't find Frankie anywhere," I say, shakily.

He asks me if I checked everywhere in the school and I nod. We run back into the auditorium to ask if anyone had seen her. Dozens of people spread out on the school grounds to look for her, but no one finds her.

"I'm calling the police," Gerald says, after he and Kailani searched for her. "Even if it's nothing major, they can still help find her," he tells me, pulling out his cell phone.

I nod, I am so scared. How could she disappear in mere minutes.

…

"Hi, I'm Officer Brookes, and I just wanted to ask a few questions," a policeman says as he approaches me. I have been sitting in this metal chair for the past ten minutes, waiting for the police to arrive. I do not know what to do. I nod to him in agreement.

"Your daughter, she was here at the dance, correct?" He asks.

"Yes," I say, "She was here the whole time until about ten minutes before the end, when suddenly she was gone," I don't know how else to explain it.

"Hmm…and where were you when you noticed she was missing?" He asks.

"I was just…finishing dancing. She wanted me to dance,"

My mind is racing. Could someone have seriously snatched my daughter in that amount of time in a roomful of people? It was nearly impossible!

There was only one person I knew who could do that.

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**Dun dun dun! Stay tuned to find out what happens! **

**REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW, as always.**


	6. The Past in the Present

**Sorry for the long wait everyone! School has been crazy and this chapter has given me many hiccups :/ I just couldn't get the details right. Anyway! I hope you all enjoy this :)**

The police have told me they will search for my daughter, and they will get back to me. They say the best thing for me to do is to go home and wait. Yeah right. Rest and relax while my daughter is out there somewhere? I don't think so. Not Helga G. Pataki.

Arnold walks over to me and says, "You aren't going home, are you?"

I shake my head. My thoughts bother me. _Could he have possibly taken her?_

It seemed so far-fetched, and yet, he was the only person I knew who could possibly pull it off. And he had a reason to do so.

"Arnold, there is something I need to tell you," I say, nervously. I never have told anyone about this, and it's something I never intended to even think about again.

Gerald runs over with Phoebe. She looks really worried. "Oh my God, Helga!" She says running over to hug me. I realize that I haven't told them either.

"There is something I need to tell all of you," I manage to say.

….

Somewhere, in a dark building, Frankie felt herself being pulled out of the back of a van. Her hands are tied behind her back, and she feels adrenaline and fear rushing through her body.

"Did you find the girl?" she hears a voice say. It's a man.

"Yeah," the other laughs, the one who is yanking her along. If she wasn't gagged she would spit at them.

"What about her mother?" the other one says, laughing.

"She was there. She'll be looking for her soon,"

"Well, it's about time I met up again with Miss Helga G. Pataki," He laughs, adding the last part mockingly. "Shove the girl in the corner and make sure she stays quiet. We'll take care of her later,"

"Yes sir," says the one who is holding her, yanking her into a musty corner.

It's cold and wet, and Frankie stares ahead, praying that her mother would get there in time.

…

"Right after Frankie was born, I got involved in some bad stuff," I hear myself saying. I can hardly believe I am finally telling one of my biggest secrets. "I needed money badly, and working minimum wage jobs wasn't cutting it. This guy named Rex Scheck took me under his wing. We used to scam some business into giving us money, nothing too major, but we made a few hundred here and there. It helped me get by…"

I pause, and run my fingers through my hair nervously. They say nothing, so I continue.

"Soon, the scams got bigger so he brought in more people. They started threatening people for money and wanted me to be the backbone of the operation," I didn't want to remember all of the times I had feared for my life. If he wasn't trying to hurt me, he was hurting someone else. "There were fights and shootings, and everything got more violent. I had to get out…I was one of his best agents and he wasn't very happy about me leaving,"

I sigh and continue, "When I left he swore that he would get me back, and that he was coming for me. I got out of New York and headed west, and I haven't heard from him since, but I think he might be responsible for kidnapping Frankie. He's the only person I know who has the means to get her."

At first no one speaks. I can't blame them. I mean, I took my eyes off my daughter for two minutes. And Frankie has been known to run off on her own. But I know better…something is very wrong.

Arnold finally speaks, "Where do you think she might be?"

I shake my head, "I don't know," I am scared for Frankie, scared out of my mind. He could hurt her, badly. And knowing the violent streak that he possessed I would not put it passed him.

Brrriiiiiiinnnnnnngggg

My phone. I really don't feel like answering it, especially at a time like this, but I do anyway.

"It's nice to hear your voice again, Helga,"

I can't breathe. I was right. On the phone right now is Rex. I'd recognize that troubling, raspy voice anywhere "Where is she!?" I scream into the phone. I am desperate, and he knows it.

"Don't worry so much, Helga! She is in good hands with me," I hear him laughing.

"Look," I say, trying to remain calm, "Your beef is with me, not my daughter. Leave her out of it," I demand.

"Of course I'm after you, but you'd still better get here in time," he snarls into the phone. "Meet me at the docks in half an hour, or you might not get her back,"

"What kind of shitty person are you, Rex!" I scream. "I left that long behind me! How can you do this to us!?"

I hear a click and the line goes dead, so I turn to my friends to explain what happened. I don't have to, they heard.

"We'd better go down there," I say. My biggest fear and greatest regrets were coming back to haunt me.

I feel Arnold grab my sweaty palm. His warmth against me is like the comfort I had never known, and at this moment I don't know how to react to it. "I won't let him hurt you or Frankie," He says to me. There is a crispness in his tone I had never heard before, and I desperately want to believe him.

We head out to Gerald's car and all get in. They won't let me go alone. I don't want to involve them because I don't want them to get hurt. Damn, I am always hurting people!

But there is another reason I don't want them to go with me…

They haven't heard the whole story yet.

…

We pull up to the docks, a favorite place of mine as a kid. Now it is dark and I can barely see. I feel my heart racing as I open the car door and get out. There is nothing to do but face him.

We all stand together in the darkness, glancing around at the shadows. There is no movement. There is no sound.

"We're here, where is my daughter!" I yell boldly. Inside I am panicking. I am not sure if I can take on Rex if I have to. Even with the handgun tucked into my bra.

Suddenly I hear a faint sound and see a figure rise from the black. It's him.

"Well, if it isn't my favorite little agent. How nice to see you again," I feel the sarcasm dripping from his voice, and the vile backed behind him. I know this isn't going to end well.

"Where is Frankie," I say angrily. I want to keep my daughter safe. I will die for her if I have to. I see Rex motion with his finger and a man brings Frankie forward, she is tied and gagged and I feel my blood pressure rise even higher.

"Let her go," I hear a new voice rise from beside me. It's Arnold. He is calm, but there is a hidden fury in his voice.

"It's nice of you to bring your friends with you," Rex says. "Arnold Shortman, correct? And Gerald and Phoebe Johanssen. How nice of you to join our little game," he says, chuckling. I really don't know how he knew they were here, but I don't want to find out.

"But let's get to the point of this little rendezvous, shall we?" he continues, yanking Frankie up by her elbow. She winces in pain, and I start to rush in towards her, but Arnold holds me back. It's not time.

"Perhaps, Helga told you she was an operator for me in my little dealings in New York? Truth be told, she was my best scammer, and my best money maker,"

I feel my face burning in embarrassment, everything I could never tell was about to be told by my mortal enemy.

"No, on the contrary. She was my little spy, and she forged my biggest business deal without her even knowing it," he snarls. "Thanks to her I am going to be a millionaire, and the money will just keep rolling in. Don't know what drug you were smoking that made you go along with it," he adds.

"I didn't take any drugs, you scumwad, you know that," I scream at him. I feel the tears of shame regret, and fear burning at the edges of my eyes, but I blink them away. I never cry. I can't. I always have to be strong.

"Helga, what is he talking about?" I hear Gerald question. "Yes, Helga, please explain?" I hear Phoebe add. I hear movement in the blackness surrounding us. There are more people there. His cronies.

"When I found out how he used me I quit," I finally spit out. "He told me he needed me to deliver a package. God, I didn't know what the hell it was! I thought it was something for one of the sponsors," I say.

"What was it, Helga," I hear Arnold say. There is a softness in his voice. Dammit, how could he be so calm right now?

"I sold out the town," I say, quivering as I speak. "I didn't know it, but in that package was the means to buy out the biggest tech industry in Hillwood,"

"Wrong!" a new voice rings out, one with a heavy German accent. Somehow it sounds familiar. A tall figure emerges from the shadows, using a cane as an aid. "It was means to blackmail the CEO of Future Tech Industries," The man says, stepping into the light of the moon. His faced is etched with wrinkles, but I recognize him as the one and only:

Alphonse Perrier du von Scheck.

**If anyone remembers from the movie, AP Sheck was the CEO of FTI during the neighborhood takeover.**

**PS. Shout out to LeDawn and Nep2uune for posting so many reviews! Your insightful and entertaining responses are well appreciated! Also a quick shout out to all of my other followers, I love you guys!**


	7. The Confrontation

**Wow, this story is getting long! And yet, it's only just getting started! Enjoy :)**

**I still, unfortunately, own nothing :(**

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"Truth be told, you fought valiantly. No doubt you came to rescue little Frankie from destruction and are probably armed," Alphonse Scheck says with insincerity. "But it matters little now. For all of you the time is up. Your days of pestering me are over,"

Thud Thud Thud

My heart is pounding. This was a big twist for certain, although Arnold, Gerald and Pheebs still seem to be in the dark. Obviously they still don't recognize him as the old CEO of Future Tech Industries, the company that tried to take over the whole town when we were kids. Perhaps they didn't know him as I knew him, or as my father knew him. But as I stare up at the gnarled old face and the dark eyes, there is no doubt in my mind as to the bad purposes of this man.

How could I have not known, all those years ago, who Rex really was? Obviously the son of Alphonse Perrier du von Scheck and he was using me for his own evil purposes. God I feel so stupid. I am such an idiot!

"Scheck, you will not get away with this," I say cautiously. Slowly reaching for my handgun. I have to remain very calm at this moment. Somehow, someway I need to save Frankie.

He laughs. "Don't worry, I will. The only people who were ever able to stop me are the four of you standing before me now. Once you are gone, I will no longer have any issues with getting what I want in this town. My money…" With that, he raised a finger and summoned two more men arose from the shadows.

"Helga…?" Arnold says. "This isn't the guy from when we are little kids, is it? The guy from FTI?"

I look at him. Sometimes, Arnold could really be dense. But really? "Yes, it is," my one gun isn't enough to take everyone. Frankie is thrown into my arms, and the two guys aim their rifles at us. As I stare at the barrels of the guns, I don't think we are going to make it now. I close my eyes tightly.

I hear a gunshot, then another. I wonder if I'm dead, but I realize now that I'm not.

"I guess you forgot one piece of your little puzzle,"

I look up to see two of the men on the ground, with Rex bent over on his knees.

Oh. My. God. It's my sister, Olga. Dressed in a grungy black outfit with a pistol in one hand standing behind Rex. She looks badass, but I can't believe my eyes. She literally just saved us.

She bangs the butt of her pistol into Rex's head and he goes out cold. "That's for using me you little twerp!" she screeches. Arnold and Gerald are already up and trying to tackle Alphonse. He looks like he's been shot, he's breathing heavily.

I suddenly realize I am holding my daughter, and I breathe a temporary sigh of relief. I can't believe what just happened. Pheebs races to my side as Olga walks over. "Little sis," she says, looking at me. There are wrinkles on her once flawless face. She has aged terribly, but she is actually sober. I haven't seen her sober in about ten years. She kneels down and hugs me. "He used me too. He wanted me to rob stores in Hillwood to run them out of business," she sobs to me. "I was so stupid," Hearing those words come out of her mouth made me feel a connection with her. Used and mistreated by the same man.

I hear a shout "Get them!" the raspy voice of Alphonse Scheck cries out. Instantly dark figures run in from the shadows. I yank Frankie up and we start running. I pull out my handgun for protection as we all dart away.

Oh. My. God. What the hell is happening!? It feels like something out of Hollywood, like some horror story gone wrong, but it's not. It's actually happening and I am scared to death that I am going to die. Worse, that Frankie will.

"The police are on their way!" I hear Pheobe yell as we run around another corner. She must have called 911. Scheck's men are still hot on our tail. Frankie is huffing and puffing and I can't pull her along anymore. She doesn't look too well either. I feel Arnold take her from my grasp and throw her onto his shoulders. Sirens are blaring in the distance, and I know this can't last too much longer.

We run into an alleyway, and the gunmen run in after us. A car pulls up to the street and Scheck gets out. I stop the others from running. The more we move around the harder it will be for the police to find us.

"Scheck, your little scheme is up! The police are on their way and you are going to jail," I say, aiming my handgun at him. I am a steady shot, and he probably knows that. I see the disdain on his face. There is blood pouring out of his arm.

"You brats!" He snarls, cursing under his breath in his native language. "You won't get in my way any longer!"

I shake my head, holding my gun right at him all the while. "The gig's up, and you know it," I have the upper hand, and I hear the police sirens nearing the alley.

"No!" He shouts, "Shoot her! Shoot her!" He yells, pointing his gnarled finger at me. My heart nearly stops.

I suddenly hear the policemen storming the street. "Drop your weapons! You're under arrest!" I hear someone shout. I drop my gun and collapse to my knees. It's over.

…

It's late, probably about 1:00 in the morning by now. Arnold and I sit together with Phoebe and Gerald at my kitchen table. It's been a long day.

Olga was being held in jail overnight without bond. While it didn't surprise me, I almost wish I could get her out. For the first time in a very long time she had actually done a good thing. A good thing for me and Frankie. A good thing for herself. The police didn't care, of course. Not only was Olga wanted on several drug and burglary charges, she was also being held for possible murder. She is definitely in some deep water, but I am determined to help her now. I realize that there is still some good buried underneath the surface.

Phoebe and Gerald's voices bring back into the present. "Helga, it's over now," I hear Phoebe say, she grabs my hand. I nod at her. "We need to get back home now and check on the kids," she adds. She still seems worked up, but tired.

"It's ok, you need to get to bed," I say quietly. I am not sure I will sleep at all tonight, and although Frankie is in bed, I'm pretty sure she is awake.

They quietly grab their things and leave the house. Arnold and I are alone again. It feels like deja vu.

"I'm proud of you," he says to me.

I look at him in wonder. "For what? God dammit, I put my child, myself, and all of you in serious danger today. And why? Because of all the bad decisions I have made in my life!" I say angrily. I don't know who I'm angry at. I guess I'm mad at myself.

"True," he says, "But you faced your fears and didn't hide behind your façade anymore. You didn't give up,"

I look at him and smile. He stands up, says goodnight, and leaves. I decide to go in and check on Frankie.

"Frankie?" I say quietly as I wander into her room. She's awake, of course. I sit on her bed and she hugs me. "You don't have to be afraid anymore. Everything is going to be alright. All the bad guys are in jail," I tell her, patting her blonde hair. I hate that she was in danger today. I hate myself for letting it happen.

"I'm not afraid. I never was," she states. "I knew that God would protect me," she says.

Leave it to my daughter to be the brave one. Leave it to her to be the religious one too. Frankie believes in a higher power. I don't.

I hold her close. The events of the night flooding through my mind. There is one thing I want to tell her. "I don't know if you know this, but Arnold isn't…he isn't really your father," I say shakily.

"Doi, of course not!" she says. "He's not my _real_ dad," she adds the last part sadly.

"You never thought he was?" I ask.

"No, not really. The years didn't match up,"

I stand up. Criminy, she is smart. Almost TOO smart. Goodness, the child still is only nine!

"Ok, missy, time to go to sleep," I say, heading to the door.

"Mom,"

"Yes?"

"I know he's not my real dad, but he's not a bad one either,"

I smile at her, and close the door.

**I love all of my readers! I am hoping to have the next chapter up and ready soon as well, so stay tuned. Thanks so much to all of you who favorited this story as well!**


	8. The Rain on Your Skin

**Hey everyone! I'm excited about this chapter as we are starting to get into some of meat of the story. Enjoy!**

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It's almost noon on Saturday, and I finally roll out of bed. I know I have assignments for school to finish. Some that are already overdue. I hear coughs coming from the bathroom. Frankie is sick. She has a scratchy throat, runny nose, and a cough. Possibly a cold.

I give her some throat syrup, throw on some slippers and trudge over to Phoebe's house. I need to talk to her.

Phoebe is a doctor, and today I need some medical advice.

"Helga?" Pheebs sounds sleepy. I don't blame her, I don't think any of us slept very well after yesterday "What is up?" she says, rubbing her eyelids.

"I need to talk to you about Frankie. She isn't feeling well today and she has a cough. Phoebe, I'm really worried about her,"

My friend perks up. Anything to do with her field of practice gets her interested. "Helga, kids get sick. It's really normal. There is nothing to worry about,"

"Phoebe, I know, but it isn't just now, she has been a little fatigued lately," I say.

"It's probably just because it's November. The cold weather wears everyone's immune system down," she says.

"Maybe, but I still want to move her checkup to a sooner date. It's still two months away, but I want to make sure there aren't any complications now,"

She sighs, "Helga, I don't know, it's pretty busy…" She takes a good look at me and finally relents, "Alright, I will move her appointment up to next week if it will worry you less,"

I give her a tired smile, "Thanks Pheebs!"

She smiles back at me and closes the door. She is probably going back to bed.

This conversation makes me feel better, but there is still a sinking feeling churning in the pit of my stomach.

…

The whole Saturday seemed to have been eaten up with school for me. I had to get extensions on some things and write three good length papers. Frankie is sleeping over at the Johanssens' tonight. Phoebe wanted to give me a break to focus on my school for a couple hours. I still am wondering about yesterday and if we are really safe at all. Scheck is in jail, but what does that mean anything?

I sit down to work briefly on my novel before I hit the sack when I hear the doorbell ring. I hope it's not Frankie being homesick.

I peek at the window to see Arnold.

I am not sure if I want to open the door or not. One part of me does, while the other just wants him to leave me alone. I decide to let him in.

We are sitting around my table once again in silence. He looks at me so deeply with his blazing emerald eyes. "Why do you keep coming around?" I finally ask. I hope there isn't an edge to my voice.

He pauses before fumbling around with an answer, "I…well, I think…I mean, I guess…Helga, I'm interested in you,"

My heart seems to leap out of my chest before I mentally slap myself. Why did he always get me so excited? Yet, when I look at him he seems so earnest. I wonder how he could possibly feel this way about me after so many years. And why? I have made so many mistakes…

"You can't possibly have me believe there was no one else in the 14 years we were apart," I say.

He looks at me, his eyes suddenly saddening. He turns away.

"Helga, I was married,"

I am shocked. I thought there must have been someone else, but I never expected this. At first I feel upset, but then I feel an overwhelming sense of relief. He isn't as perfect as he seems. There was some dirt underneath that saintly shield.

He draws an irregular breath and stares at the table. There was something there than just dirt. I can tell that his heart had been broken. I grab his shaking hand and I feel somehow closer to him through his pain. I also know what it was like to lose something you loved.

"Her name was Josephina," He says quietly. "We met in San Lorenzo during one of my humanitarian trips there. She was a native girl, but she had a heart of gold. We were married after three months,"

I don't know how to respond, so I say nothing, quietly and awkwardly holding his hand. He looks at me, and I see a pain in his eyes I have never seen before. I wait for him to continue.

"We were married for about a year when she was hit and killed by a drunk driver in San Antonio," he says. I expect him to get angry, but he doesn't. He just looks sad. "She was pregnant with our son. They were both killed,"

I gasp trying to process what I am hearing. A pang of empathy rushes to my heart and I can't just brush it away. His son was dead. I knew what it was like to almost lose my daughter. I couldn't imagine what kind of pain he must be feeling.

Arnold pulls off his glasses and wipes the sweat from his brow. He looks extremely unsettled.

I finally talk, "Arnold, it's ok to be upset," I whisper.

"I know," he breathes back to me.

We remain in silence for quite some time. I suddenly hear raindrops on the roof almost as if the sky was crying for us. Neither of us had any tears left.

"The worst part," he finally murmurs, "Is that even though I loved her with all my heart, after being here with you again, I realized that I never could love her as much I as I loved you," He sighs, taking his hand away from mine.

He continues, "The truth is, I don't even know if I even loved her, or just the idea of her," whispering quietly, sadly, yet I hear every word. "It makes me feel like a failure. I was supposed to love her more than anyone else," he quivers. I feel the agony in his words.

"No," I reply, "It makes you human,"

I reach up to touch his cheek and he draws me closer to him. He leans down to me and his lips gently brush across mine. The tender warmth is both exhilarating and soothing. One part of me wants to kiss him back, the other wants to pull away. I can't decide, so I do neither, and we finally break apart.

Arnold sighs unhappily. "I had better be going," he says. I nod, unsure of the emotions quivering inside of me. Fear, security, hurt, comfort, sorrow, joy…My mind is exploding in wonder.

He slowly walks to the door and lets himself out in the storm. I watch him as he walks away by the light of the street lamps. I expect him to head up the sidewalk to his house, but he doesn't. He stops and stands by the bench near the street.

He is crazy. The rain is pouring over him and he doesn't seem to flinch. It has to be very cold at the moment, and I wouldn't be surprised if it turns to snow soon.

As I watch him I feel something rise up within me, a new emotion. Or perhaps it is all of the others combined into one feeling. One sensation.

Love.

I can't deny it. Even after all the years of struggle I still had never stopped loving him. I almost hate that I still love him, but I can't help it. He was the only one who had ever cared about me. I love him despite all of his flaws, despite all of his past. I feel a burning desire to comfort him, to somehow take his hurt away.

He is still standing there, staring off into the distance. Thinking quickly, I grab an umbrella and run out to him. Standing next to him, I hold it over his head. I still remember all those years ago when he had sheltered me from the rain as a little girl.

He turns, looking at me. The pain in his eyes is still there, but he wraps his arms around me anyway.

"You're all wet," I laugh at him, gently pushing his arms off me playfully. He gives me a smile.

"Helga, I have to know if you care about me," he says.

My heart accelerates, and that odd feeling of fear leaps back into my soul. I look away. I can't lie to him, "Yes," I say reluctantly. "But it's complicated. I'm still a mom and I have other issues too,"

He grabs my hand. I feel the cold dampness against my palm and shiver. We walk together to his doorstep.

He is about to go inside, when I stop him, pull him toward me, and kiss him on the lips. His lips are cold and wet, yet the feeling of them against mine is exhilarating. He kisses back, at first gently, then not at all. I don't want to drift apart again. The minutes feel like hours as he holds me in his embrace. Suddenly we step away from each other, I in the rain, and he in the doorstep. We remain silent for a while.

Arnold finally speaks, "I wanted to save her, but I couldn't. I watched helplessly as she died in the hospital," emotion was pouring out of him now. Just emotion, no tears. "I didn't love her enough…"

"Arnold, that's not true. There was nothing you could have done. It was the lowly person that killed her that should be feeling this guilt, not you," I tell him.

"Yeah, I know," he says quietly.

"I'll see you tomorrow," I say, rubbing my arm awkwardly.

"Yeah, see you tomorrow," he responds.

I wander home in the rain and think about what just happened. I wonder if Arnold is not as ready as I thought he was for a relationship. God, I was so stupid to think that there could be anything between us after all these years.

Life never ceased to get more complicated.

* * *

**Well, it's about time we learn more about Helga's past, isn't it? Next chapter we will see what really happened to Arnold and Helga in high school AND What happened between Helga and Frankie's father…**

**Until then, REVIEW! I really do listen and take your guys advice and take into consideration what you want to read and see in the story!**


	9. Dreams of Days Gone By

**This chapter is a little longer and it starts out with a flashback from high school and continues on into Helga's college life (everything in italics is flashbacks). Enjoy!**

"_Hey Helga, wait up," it's Arnold, that stubborn football head, yet the love of my life and boyfriend. We had an argument last week about graduation, and I am not sure I want to talk to him. I hope he isn't still mad at me._

"_What is it, Arnoldo? Criminy, I haven't got all day," I spit at him. I'm still pretty mad at him for not wanting to invite my parents to his party. _

_He gives me that half lidded smile, "You're so cute when you pretend to be angry,"_

_My eyebrows raise, "What makes you think I'm pretending," I growl, raising my fist. _

"_I don't know…there's always a certain look you have when you're pretending…" He says. God, that smile drives me crazy! He knows I can't stay mad at him for long, even when he is an idiot._

"_And if it means so much to you," Arnold adds, grabbing my hand, "I'll invite your parents. I didn't mean to offend you, I just didn't want to have any fights. You know how my grandpa is around your dad,"_

_I laugh, he's right. They argue every time they see each other. "Thanks, Football head," as we walk together. "I'll see you at the ceremony tomorrow," I tell him cheerily, turning off to Phoebe's house. _

"_Yeah, see you then,"_

…_**.**_

**M**y eyes flashed open in the darkness. Was I just sleeping? The events of those days seemed so clear in my mind, and yet so far away. I remember what happened at the ceremony, but I don't want to think about it. I roll over angrily and drift off to sleep again. Unfortunately for me, we don't get to choose what we dream about.

…**.**

_It was late after Arnold's party, and everyone had gone home. We were up on his rooftop silently watching the city lights. I was cuddled in his arms. Normally we would be making out about this time, but for some reason there was a quiet edge surrounding us. We were each miles away from each other._

"_Arnold, I was accepted into Columbia," I say, breaking the silence. _

_He looks at me. "I thought we were both headed to Stanford. That's where you said you wanted to go," he says. He doesn't sound happy._

"_No, that was your idea, but now my chance at going to school in New York is finally a possibility," I say, excitedly. This is my dream. "And think about it, Pheebs and Gerald are going there too so we could all stick together,"_

"_Yeah, but I already was accepted into Stanford. I have been planning on going there for the past year!" He says bitterly._

"_Criminy, Arnold, just apply to Columbia. It's not that big of a deal," I say. His mood is rubbing off on me now. _

"_You know what, I think it's more than that," Arnold says, standing up. _

"_Oh yeah, what is it then?" I say, standing as well. If he wants a fight, he's got one._

"_We have been arguing for the past few weeks constantly. All you can do is disagree with me!" Arnold shouts. _

"_Disagree with you?" I say in disbelief. "You've been crankier than the Jolly Olly man! You are almost never in a good mood anymore," I shout back, folding my arms. "You're always grouchy, always complaining, always a million miles away, even when you're standing right next to me!"_

_He runs his fingers through his hair, "Let's not fight," he says._

_I scowl and remain silent. He was always trying to avoid confrontation. I can't live like that. Bad things happen, but he never wanted to acknowledge that._

"_We can both go to the colleges we want to go to, right? We can make it work," he says, but there is a tiredness in his voice. I feel crushed. How could he say that? We would be on separate ends of the country, and he didn't even care?_

"_No way, football head! I am not up for some long distance thing. You have to make a choice, me or Stanford. Which one is going to be?" I shout. _

"_You know what I think," Arnold says, "I think we are two very different people who are now headed in very different directions. Maybe we just weren't meant to be,"_

_My heart is broken, but I scream at him and walk out. Alone in my dark cold room that night I cry my eyes out. For some reason I know that I will probably never see him again. I don't want to see him again. I want to forget that I ever loved him._

…_**..**_

"_Shit, I can't deal with this mess," I say aloud quietly. I got another D. My first two years of college had been fine and easy, but now, I am drifting. I don't know what it is either. I doubt I am homesick, but I still feel this odd sense of loneliness I can't push away. Maybe it's because Pheebs transferred last semester. Criminy I'm a mess!_

"_I can help you, if you want," I hear a voice say. I turn to see a young guy with short dirty blonde hair and a flashing smile. He's cute, that's for sure. "Yeah, how's that," I say grouchily. He laughs and flops down his paper. 100 written at the top. "What the…" I mutter, staring at it. I didn't even think that was possible._

"_So, what do you say, wanna meet at the lounge and study?" he says. I shrug my shoulders. "Sure, why not,"_

_He flashes his dazzling pearly whites, "See you at the north dorm at three," he says, and moves back to his seat. I sit staring after him…_

…

**I wake** up hyperventilating. What the hell is wrong with me tonight! I can't stop dreaming about the past. I rub my face trying to forget. I remember him very well, unfortunately. Those bright brown beaming eyes, but most of all that dazzling smile. Damn it, why couldn't I just have steered clear of him. We had studied together for months…months. He was always pestering me to come to his dorm for parties, but I never bothered. I toss and turn and close my eyes again.

…

"_Hello?" My phone rings. It's my father, that's a big surprise. He never calls me. I haven't spoken to him since Christmas._

"_Yeah, what's up Bob?" I say. The sooner I can get off the phone, the better._

"_It's your mother…" I hear him say, "She was traveling in Texas to see her sister last week and…"_

"_Well, spit it out will you," I demand, munching on some pork rinds._

"_She died in a car accident. She was…driving under the influence," he says. My heart stops. I can't breathe. I instantly drop the phone and crawl into a ball. _

_For hours I lie on the floor of my dorm room. Miriam, is…gone. I can't process it. My own mother, who although hadn't always been there for me, was dead. The tears rolled down my cheeks. I feel an overwhelming sense of sorrow. I can't even move…_

_There is a knock on my dorm door. I don't stand up. "Helga, it's me," I hear my studymate Curtis say. I get up and let him in._

_He does a double take at the sight of my messy hair and running makeup. "What happened," he demands to me. "My…m..mom…died," I spit out. I am blubbering like an idiot, but I can't help it. He wraps me in his arms and I try to feel safe, but I don't._

"_I know what will help," He says, grabbing my hand. We go off campus to a bar. I had never set foot in one, afraid that Miriam's drinking problem would become my own. Now, I don't even care, guzzling down the alcohol set in front of me. It doesn't taste that great, but it gives me a buzz which I like._

_We laugh the whole night. I have never felt so free and happy. I feel like I could fly. We wander back to his dorm and into his bed. He slowly raises my shirt off and kisses my lips fiercely. I am having so much fun. I felt so adored and special, and for the first time, my problems seem to have disappeared._

…

_The light is pouring in through the window as my eyes slowly blinked open. Oh God, my head is raging. I am lying on the floor of Curt's dorm. What the hell had happened to me? "Your still here?" I hear a voice say. It's Curtis._

"_God, my head," I moan, trying to remember what had happened the night before. He smiles enchantingly at me, and lifts me to my feet. "I'll get you some coffee," he says, sitting me down in a chair and leaving the room. I want to ask him about last night, but he's gone. All I can remember was coming here…_

_The coffee tastes terrible, but it helps my headache a little bit. Curtis comforts me with his sweet soft voice telling me everything will be ok. I trust him._

…

**I sit** up in my bed, awoken for a third time by my disturbing dreams that night. "Get out! Get out!" I yell angrily to myself. I want to forget. I don't want to think about this. I don't want to remember. I am exhausted! I get up and get a glass of milk and sit at the kitchen table. I will not go back to sleep if that's what I am going to dream about. I flop down on my sofa, tired. Maybe it will be better out here, and I curl into a ball. My eyes blink closed again…

…

_It has been several weeks since the incident. I try to bury it to the back of my mind as I shift the weight of my backpack to my other shoulder. I don't want to think that Curtis had taken advantage of me. Or worse, that I had initiated any contact. He is so nice to me all the time, and we had started dating. _

_I get a weird feeling in my head. I suddenly feel weak and dizzy as I am walking to class. I stop and grab onto the bench nearby me and hang on. Everything starts to get fuzzy and I hear someone yell nearby as I fall to the ground. It all goes black…_

…

"_How are you feeling Helga," I hear someone ask me as I woke up. "I'm ok," I say back. It's a woman dressed in maroon scrubs bending over me. "Good, good," she says, smiling. "I'm going to take your vital signs. You fainted a couple hours ago and had a fall. The doctor will be in to see you in a few minutes," The nurse chirps, putting a blood pressure cuff on me._

"_That's crazy! I never faint," I tell her. She looks at me concerned and nods her head, "I will get the doc in here as quickly as possible to check you out," she says._

_Ten minutes later the doctor enters the room. "I'm glad to see you are feeling better, Miss Pataki!" the man boomed as he enters with his clipboard._

"_Yeah yeah doc, look, I just want to get out of here so can you…" I say, but he cuts me off._

"_I have some news that I think you might want to hear," He says, his jovial tone has turned serious. "You are pregnant,"_

_My mind is reeling right now. I feel a strange fear jump into my heart. I can't believe this is happening…but I know exactly who the father is…_

…

_I feel extremely nervous now, walking up to Curt's dorm. It's been a few days since I discovered I was pregnant. I don't know how I am going to tell him, but I just know that I have to. He welcomes me in and says something about class, but I'm not listening. "I have something I need to tell you," I say._

"_Yeah?"_

"_Well…I guess, I mean I am…God dammit, I'm pregnant," I say nervously. I don't know how he is going to react. He doesn't look too happy._

"_You're what? Why the hell are you telling me this? Do you think I'm the father or something?"_

_I look at him funny. I know he's the only guy I have slept with._

"_Curt, I don't under…"_

"_Well, I do, you slut! I don't know who you think you are, but you'd better get the hell out of here," he says angrily. I gasp and quickly leave, my heart in a million pieces. How could he do this to me, after he had been so nice to me? Fear pounding in my heart, I don't know what to do, or who to turn to. What will people think? Should I get an abortion?_

_As I turn around to catch a last glimpse of him before he slams the door, I swear those dazzling teeth are smiling broadly and evilly._

…

**The** light shines through my window and I get up from the sofa. No more sleeping, I can't deal with it anymore. All those tears I wasted on that jerk! I hate him…

And God! Why did I trust him? How could I have been so stupid to not know who he really was? How could I have not known that he was someone I had known most of my life? How could I have not known that is was none other than Brainy, always stalking me, always haunting me. God, I hate that psycho creep!

I want to cry my eyes out, but I can't.

I go to the kitchen and search out some food for breakfast. Trying for the millionth time to pick up the pieces of my broken heart.

**I hope you liked this chapter, even though it was a little different! I apologize for making Brainy so evil, but I really liked the suggestion of making him the father, so I did.**

**As someone most famously said, if you have time to read it, you have time to review it! PLEASEEEE REVIEWWWW!**


	10. The Neighborhood

**Hey everyone! I hope you liked the little flashback last chapter. This is a turning point in our story, so I hope you stay tuned! Enjoy.**

* * *

I stare at my sister, as she sits in her cell with her fellow inmates. She looks well beyond her now 40 years of age. Dressed in orange, her hair is stringy and gross, but she looks…happy. She is talking to the others in an excited tone. Why the hell is she so happy? She is in jail, and she could possibly be there for a very long time.

"Olga Pataki," the officer motions to her, "You have a visitor," he says, taking us both to a small room. "You have five minutes," he tells us.

She smiles at me, "It's so good to see you little Sis!" she cries out, happy tears on her face.

"Dammit, Olga, why are you so happy," I growl at her.

She sighs before saying, "Because I'm free. Too long I have been struggling, but now I have a chance to start over! Helga, my addiction is gone," her eyes are shining with excitement.

I stare at her blankly, "It's gone? Olga have you lost your mind!"

"No," she says happily, "It's gone, God took it away from me! He saved me," she says to me, the tears rolling down her cheeks. I conclude this place must be messing with her head. Either that or she is going through some serious withdrawal symptoms.

"Olga, you do realize that you could be staying here a very long time. You could be convicted of murder!" I tell her.

She nods her head, "I know," she responds quietly.

"And how can you feel so happy, how do you know that even if you get out of here, Scheck won't send someone after you. How can you feel so safe? Aren't you still mad at him?" I demand to her.

"No, Helga. I can't hold that hate inside anymore…" she says to me, clutching her hands over her heart. "I've held it in for too long. For years I tried to cover the pain and pressure of my entire life with every drug I could possibly get my hands on. I can't live that way anymore. I am forever changed," she says to me. There is something in her voice. A peacefulness.

I sigh. She is crazy.

"I only hope," she says, taking my hand, "that someday you find it in your heart to forgive me for all the years I wasn't there for you and Frankie,"

I look at her, then turn away. "Maybe," I say. I still can't erase the image of her on my porch with her money. I can't erase the image of her turning me away when I told her I was pregnant. But something was tugging at my heart strings.

I stand up, "I need to go," I say. She nods in reply, and I walk away. There is a change in my sister that I can't explain. She is happy, but not with some naïve bubbliness like when she was younger. Whatever it is, I can't figure it out.

But why the hell she could forgive Scheck for using her like that is beyond me. He didn't deserve forgiveness, and I sure as hell wasn't going to give it to him.

….

I go to pick up Frankie from the Johanssen's. Thankfully, she is not coughing anymore. She actually seems better, amazingly. Maybe she wasn't really sick at all and I had nothing to worry about. Phoebe smiles at me and hands her off. "I took good care of her for you!" she says. I give her a tired smile back and the two of us walk away. I know it has been a rough week for Frankie, and I want to do something special for her.

"I was thinking we could go see a movie today, Frankie," I ask her. "You know, do something fun,"

"Mom, there is something else I want to do," she says to me in a very calm, serious tone.

I raise an eyebrow at her. "Like what?"

She stops walking and looks at me. Her big blue eyes are shining with her messy hair framing her face, "I want to see where you and Arnold used to live as kids, you know, the old neighborhood Uncle Gerald talks about," she says.

I tornado of emotions sweeps through me. The old neighborhood? What put that idea into her mind?

"I don't know, Frankie…" I say. I don't want to, that's for sure. God dammit, for once in my life can't I leave the past behind me?

She stares pleadingly up at me with her big blue eyes. "C'mon, mom, you've never shown me where you used to live and we live in the town where you grew up. There's gotta be something wrong with that," she says to me.

I laugh nervously. The idea of showing her my past scares me. I guess I don't want her to make the same mistakes in life I made. I don't want her to experience the same rejection and pain I had.

"Ok, we'll go," I say. Maybe this little trip will get the whole "love of history" out of her mind.

Maybe…

….

I get out of the car with Frankie and feel my breath taken away. That infamous red brick building is standing right in front of me. Sunset Arms, the boarding house. Years of wear show visibly on it, and I wonder if it will be torn down soon. The front steps were crumbling, the green paint on the door was chipping, and one of the second level windows was broken. "This is where Arnold used to live," I say to Frankie, who stands next to me gazing at it.

Frankie says nothing but wanders over to it and touches it cautiously. "What happened to this place?" she asks me sadly.

I shrug. "After Arnold's grandparents died, everyone moved out. I guess it's just been sitting here all these years," I remember hearing that Phil and Gertie had passed away. They had always been so kind to me that it made me sad to think about it.

"Oh," Frankie responds sadly, running her mitten over the bricks. I look around the street. A lot of the buildings are looking older and less lively then they used to be.

I give my daughter the run down on the rest of the street. It's definitely different now. Mr. Green had moved away and several of the old businesses had closed up shop. Of course none of our classmates lived around anymore. They were long gone. Frankie grabs my hand as we walked along the street to comfort me. I feel an overwhelming feeling of loss seeing everything so different then what I had remembered.

God, it feels like yesterday I was hiding behind trashcans hoping to catch a glimpse of my beloved football headed crush.

We walk quite a ways, and I am just about to turn around and head back to my car. I have seen enough and Frankie has too. Suddenly I hear a voice call out from across the street.

"Helga?"

My heart freezes at the sound of that voice. I want to run, but suddenly I feel like I am glued to the sidewalk. "Oh my God, it is you," the man says, as he walks to meet us. The air in my lungs feels very cold right now. I don't want to see him, and a bitter taste rises in my throat.

I move now, walking away from him towards my car. Frankie yanks her hand out of mine and stops. I try to grab her, but she won't let me. "Who are you?" Frankie demands him. I look up, seeing someone I had never wanted to see again. It's my father.

He looks down at her and then back at me. Bending down to her level he says, "You must be Frankie," he speaks with tenderness, but his voice sounds tired, and as I look at him I realize he is a shell of the man he used to be. His muscular frame seemed weaker, his shoulders were less square, and his head was a mess of gray, thinning hairs.

Frankie looks at him with kindness. I don't know where she got her big heart from. "How do you know me?" she asks curiously. He stands up and looks me in the eye. There are bags under his eyes and he is old. Big Bob is actually an old man now. Tired and weary. I avert my eyes.

"Helga, why haven't you come to see me?" he asks calmly. A fury rises within me. Why? Why?! Was he seriously asking that question?

"Come on, Frankie. We should head home," I say coldly, grabbing my daughter's hand.

"Helga wait!" he calls after us.

"No!" I scream back at him, anger boiling through my veins. I hate him. He wants to know why I never spoke with him. He abandoned me. His daughter. He left me out on the streets to fend for myself when I had nothing. I was never good enough for him, and he wants to know why I don't come see him!?

"Mom, wait, please!" Frankie says, trying to pry free from my grasp. "Who is he?" I don't want Frankie to know who he is. He doesn't deserve to know my daughter. He doesn't deserve to see what he missed out on.

"Helga!" He yells after me, still chasing us. I stop and whirl around. I am very furious now. If he wants an explanation, he is going to get one.

"How dare you!" I yell at him. We are on the street, and people are starting to watch what's going on. I don't care. I hate him that much. "How dare you ask me where I was all those years! How dare you demand that I come see you! You don't deserve to be part of my life," I scream.

He looks shocked and hurt and afraid. It makes me mad. Is he surprised that I hate him? He shouldn't be.

I hear Frankie start to hyperventilate and I turn towards her. She backs away from me. "Frankie?" I ask her as her face turns deathly pale. I run to her side to catch her before she collapses to the ground. The crowd gasps and I hear someone yell to call 911. Soon an ambulance arrives and the rescuers usher Frankie inside and I stay by her side. As the doors bang shut I utter a prayer for the first time in a very long time.

"God, please let my baby be ok,"

* * *

**Please review! Let me know what you think :)**


	11. Perfectly Imperfect

**Perfectly Imperfect**

**Hey again! I am taking a risk with this next chapter and writing in Arnold's POV. But I am up for the challenge. It'll be nice to write what's going through his mind for a change.**

**ARNOLD'S POINT OF VIEW**

* * *

I get out of my car, slam the door, and race up to the entrance of the emergency department. Gerald had called me a little while ago telling me that Frankie had been admitted to the hospital. I got here as soon as I could.

I won't lie, I'm worried. I feel this strange sensation running through my veins yet again. I seem to be feeling this way a lot when I'm with Helga or Frankie. It's almost like liquid fear is pumping through my system.

I am running up to the door when I see Helga race out. Her loose blonde curls cover her face as she runs away, back out to the parking lot. "Helga!" I shout at her, but she ignores me and keeps going. Something must be wrong. I'm unsure whether to go after her or to head inside. Finally I decide to run inside to try and find Frankie.

Frantically I glance around the room to see Phoebe staring at the exit, pale as a ghost. I run up to her and ask, "What's wrong with Frankie?" I have to know. She works here as a doctor. She must have met up with them while in the hospital.

She looks up at me shocked and says, "Arnold!? I don't know, I'm really not allowed to say anything without Helga's permission,"

"Phoebe, please tell me!" I tell her. I am not an angry person, but I feel a fury in my blood. Of all the times she would slam me with legal stuff, this is it.

"Arnold, I can't," she says. "Patient privacy…" I can tell she is really emotional right now.

"Phoebe, you have to," I demand.

She sighs and sniffles and gives in, "Arnold, Frankie's leukemia has come back," she says.

I almost stop breathing at the news. I can't believe what I am hearing right now. My mind is reeling with so many questions, yet suddenly so many answers. That explains why Helga was so protective over Frankie, and why she didn't like her walking home in the cold by herself. I feel sick to my stomach at the realization.

"How bad is it?" I whisper. Phoebe shakes her head, "It's bad," she breathes back. "After her bone marrow transplant several years ago everything had been looking good, but now…" her voice trailed off.

"Where is Frankie?" I ask her. I need to see her. I feel such an attachment to the young girl I only met a few weeks ago.

Phoebe again gives me that "I legally can't tell you anything" look, but I plead with her anyway. Finally she directs me to a room in the cancer ward – oncology. I race down to find her. When I get there I see an empty bed that the nurse is making. "Excuse me," I tell her, "I'm looking for Frankie Pataki?"

She smiles at me and says, "Yes, she was insistent upon going to the chapel. They wheeled her over there a few minutes ago,"

As I go to the chapel, my inner psychiatrist wonders about what Frankie is feeling. She must feel afraid and alone. I wonder if Helga is going to be ok. Just the thought of her in tears breaks my heart. I never want anything to hurt her.

The room is dark and lit up softly by stain glass windows. At the front bench I see a familiar blue skull cap and blonde messy hair alone. I walk up to her and sit down beside her. She doesn't look at me.

"How long do you think it takes?" I finally hear her ask.

"How long for what?"

"How long do you think it takes God to get prayers," she responds. Her voice is quiet and calm.

"Oh, I don't know. I guess he gets them pretty quickly," I reply, echoing her tone and trying to stay calm. Inside my heart is aching for her. "What are you praying for?" I ask her.

"My mom," she quickly responds. "I want her to be happy,"

I look at her thoughtfully. "That's a pretty selfless prayer for a little girl," I say quietly. She shrugs in response.

"You don't have to feel sorry for me, you know. I'm not scared," she says seriously, turning to me finally and looking at me with her big blue eyes. As I stare into her eyes it's almost like I can see into her soul. There is an honesty in her. It's something I usually admire about her, but now I don't understand it. I can't because I'm not her.

"I know," I reply, "But I do anyway. No one should have to go what you are going through," I tell her.

Again she shrugs her shoulders. "I'm not scared," she repeats. "I will be ok…either way…" the last part sends a shudder through my spine.

"Frankie!" I hear a shout. It's Helga. Her shout is firm, but her voice is cracking. I can tell she is struggling immensely. I want to help her, but I don't know how. I want to hold her in my arms and tell her it will be ok, but I can't. I don't know what is going to happen.

"They want to have a meeting with the doctors about your lab results," she tells her. "I'll wheel you over there," she says.

"A few more minutes?" Frankie pleads. Helga nods her head. When I see her eyes I see hurt and pain. Oddly I know how she is feeling. I never tell my clients I understand their situation. That's because I usually don't. But I do know how she feels right now. I know what it was like to lose my wife…and my son. I know what it is like to be utterly helpless to save them.

"I'll be waiting outside," she says stonily. Helga turns and walks away, her footsteps are firm and her gait is rigid. I get the feeling she doesn't like being in this room.

"You know," Frankie says to me after her mother had left, "she is really beautiful. If you never got anything else in the whole world, but her, you would be pretty lucky,"

I look at her in bewilderment. She must be referring to Helga. The girl was nine, but it was like she could read my mind. "You two are perfect for each other," she says, her tone rising with fervor. "And I think you belong together," Suddenly, she reaches out and grabs the collar of my shirt. She puts her face in mine and looks me dead in the eye. "Don't. Blow. It." She demands. "Knowing you, it will take everything you have in you," she adds sarcastically.

I try to smile at her, but I am unsure how to respond. There is one thing I know. She is very serious.

She asks me to help her into her wheelchair, and I do. I wheel her up the hall where I hand her off to Helga. She thanks me quietly, and I touch her shoulder. She turns and looks at me, her eyes shining in pain. I want to reach out to her, to hug her, to hold her. But suddenly I feel so far away. As if I am transported to another time, another place, where I feel the weight of the world on my shoulders.

I watch them going up the hall. Angrily I pound my fist into the wall. "She's only nine years old," I yell. I do hope that God hears prayers quickly. I really do.

…

I wait.

And I wait.

And I wait some more.

I am sitting on a bench in the lobby of the hospital. People are buzzing in and out, but I feel like I am the only one in the room.

I guess I am waiting for Helga. I don't expect her to come out. Why would she? I would expect her to spend every passing second with her sick child. But for some reason I want to wait here just in case. Just in case I can catch a glimpse of her.

For the past few hours my mind has replayed the last moments of my late wife's life. I see her eyes. I see her pain. My heart aches in sadness, yet I don't feel angry. I know she was murdered. I know she died an innocent death. Yet I can't blame anyone. I wonder if it is my fault, but I know it isn't. Sometimes the truth is the hardest to believe.

Then I finally see her. Her mess of blonde curls walks slowly out into the lobby. Her eyes are puffy. I call out to her and invite her to sit next to me. At first she stands there, staring at me like a deer in the headlights, but eventually she sits.

"How is she?" I ask quietly.

Helga shakes her head and heaves a heavy breath. She is on the verge of tears.

"I never cry," she says shakily.

"I know, but sometimes it's ok to cry. Tears are good for your eyes. They're antimicrobial,"

She looks at me, but doesn't smile at my pitiful attempt at humor. She is sad, yes, but she also looks angry.

"What are you feeling," I ask her.

She looks away. "What should I be feeling? My daughter could die. She's really sick," There is a certain edge in her voice. Yup, she is angry.

"Who is it?"

"Who what," she sniffles, wiping the tears from her eyes.

I touch her arm. "Who do you hate? Who is it?" I think I already know.

Instantly she glares at me. "What makes you think I hate anyone?"

I give her a half lidded look. I may have been a pretty dense little kid when I was blind to her obvious affections for me, but now I can see though her masks. In fact, she is a pretty bad pretender when it comes down to it.

She sighs, knowing I have won. "I don't know," I sense tension in her. Suddenly the tears flow from her eyes, "I hate…them all," she says. "I hate my dad, I hate my mom, I hate Rex, I hate Curt, and I hate God!" She yells.

I grab her hand. "No, Helga, you don't,"

She glares at me angrily. "Yes, I do. And why shouldn't I? All of those people tore me to the ground. They abandoned me, neglected me, and abused me! I hate them," She is hurting, terribly.

"The truth is, Helga, you don't hate any of those people. You really just hate yourself,"

Her lowered eyebrows instantly rise, almost in shock. She turns away from me. Seconds tick by as she stares at the ground. Finally she speaks.

"You're right. I hate myself. I was never good enough…for anyone. Not even you. Are you happy now? You are right, like always," she says. Her voice is calm, but sad. She buries her face in her hands and starts crying again.

I pat her shoulder. I feel guilty. As much as I had always wanted to be there for her, I never was. I had failed her. But I will be there now. I have to help her.

"You need to let it go. Stop blaming yourself for everyone else's faults."

She sobs harder.

"Stop blaming yourself for losing me,"

She heaves louder.

"Stop blaming yourself…for Frankie's cancer,"

She cries. I wrap my arms around her and feel her cry into my shoulder. Years of pain are being poured out of her now. It's a release. Minutes feel like hours as she weeps heavily. Finally she pulls away and tries to dry her eyes. She draws and unsteady breath.

"I want to move on," she says.

"That's the first step. Motivation," I tell her. She musters a smile, but it quickly fades.

"I don't know how though," she says. For the first time I see her in full vulnerability. Not the Helga G. Pataki with the angry scowl or the big words. Not the Helga with old Betsy and the five avengers. Just Helga. The girl who was neglected by her parents. The girl who always had so much love to give, yet was too afraid to give it.

"I will be here, no matter what. I promise."

"I've made a lot of mistakes, and a lot of people have hurt me. I don't know if I can forgive them. I don't know if I can…forgive myself,"

"I don't expect you to, not right away,"

"I need…to talk to my dad," she says very quietly. It's a good start, I can tell. I am very hopeful for her.

"That's a good idea," I say. She leans on my shoulder quietly, staring off into the room. I feel so close to her, and I wonder what would have happened if we had never parted ways. She was the smart one, I was the kind one. We were quite the pair.

The truth is, though, that neither of us were actually ready back then. Helga was still trying to work through her own problems and I was still trying to discover my place in the world and cope with my parents' death.

Now as she leans on my shoulder, and I feel the brush of her curls on my arm, I feel like a lot has changed between us. Yes, we both have a lot more baggage, but somehow we have both grown up. We both hurt, and I want to heal her as much as she heals me. We are each other's best friend, worst enemy, each other's disease, and each other's cure.

And in this moment I understand what Frankie meant, and it's funny that a nine year old caught it before a 32 year old man.

We are perfect for each other.

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**Hope that you all like this chapter…or hate it. Either is ok. Review pleaseeeee!**


	12. The Light and the Dark

**The Dark and the Light**

**Hi all! Thanks to everyone who has supported this fanfic and me as an author. This awesome support drives my confidence and ideas. Keep it coming!**

**Helga's POV**

I am going to call my dad. Arnold is right, I can't keep living in the past anymore. I have to do this, for Frankie as much as myself.

I punch in the familiar number slowly into my cell phone. After these many years I'm pretty sure that number is still the same.

I imagine the phone ringing in that old dingy living room. I imagine my father staring aimlessly at the television screen, interrupted by the ringing of the phone. I envision him shouting a curse and getting up to answer it.

"Hello?" It's him. It's my father. I pause, unable to respond.

"Hello?! Is this the prank phone callers again," He says, sounding agitated.

"No, dad, it's me, Helga," I say.

He pauses. I almost think he's hung up.

"Helga? Is that really you?" I hear him say.

"Yes, it's me," I say.

"How is…Frankie?" He says after another long pause.

"She's…" I feel a strong urge to lie to him. To tell him that she is fine. That part of me still wants to hold onto the past. To tell him that I don't need him. To tell him what a terrible person he is. "She is not well, dad. She's really sick," I finally say, resisting my dark side. Life is about choices, and I have to make good ones even when other people don't.

He remains silent so I continue. "She wants to see you," I say.

"When…can I see her?" He asks. I sigh, running my hands through my hair.

"I guess tomorrow morning will be ok," I say.

I give him her room number and tell him which hospital she's at and hang up. Arnold is still sitting beside me.

"You need to tell him how you feel. You need to be honest with him," Arnold says, wrapping his arm back around me. I know he is right, but why does it feel so wrong?

"I still don't want to forgive him," I say.

Today has been one of the worst days of my life. My daughter is very ill. The doctors, including Phoebe, keep telling me that there is a good chance she won't make it. I thought I didn't have any tears left to cry, but I was wrong. Now I can barely keep from crying again. The very idea of losing my child kills me. I think I would die without her. The same daughter my stupid father wanted nothing to do with nine years ago.

"I know, but you have to," he whispers to me. His voice soothes my tired soul. For many years of my youth I resisted his wisdom and advice, but now I crave it. I desire his attention and his comforting arms. I feel like he understands me.

…

I sit alone now, taking everything in. It's dark in my apartment and a single lamp is lit in the corner. I feel so far away and the reality feels so heavy on my shoulders. Frankie insisted that I leave for the night, and Arnold thought I might need the rest. Criminy, like I could sleep anyway. I can't lose her. She is my world.

One part of me says to remain calm, the other says to scream in anger. My good side wants me to cling to every ounce of hope, the dark side wants me to throw it all away.

The conflict weighs heavily on me. Emotion rising in my spirit, I come to the only conclusion I can come to. My daughter could die very soon, and there is nothing I can do about it.

I lower my shoulders and bury my face in my hands. The tears stream out, yet again, like a faucet I can't manage to shut off. Suddenly, I scream, throwing my school books and computer to the floor, falling down along with them. How can this be happening to me!? All I ever wanted was give her the best I could, but now it all means nothing. I was so close and now it's all falling apart. How can I go on?

I want to be at her side right now, but she refused. Frankie told me to go home. She told me to get some rest, but I know I won't. I will never sleep again until she is better. She will get better. She has to.

My manuscript is sitting in the corner, ready to head back to the publisher and my school and work schedule hangs on the wall, but I don't care anymore. I hate it with every part of me.

The dark side overtakes me, as it always seems to do.

…

The next morning, I am sitting in Frankie's hospital room. It's about 7:00 now, and I am holding her hand. She is hooked up to oxygen and she is very pale. They start drug therapy this afternoon, but I know this will only make her weaker. I try to stay calm, but I can't. My father will be here soon, and then I will have to deal with him too. I'm not sure I can manage.

"Hey," I hear Arnold's voice behind me. He had agreed to meet me here this morning, but I must have forgotten.

"Hey," I whisper back. Frankie is still asleep, but I suddenly see her stir.

"Hey Arnold," Frankie says quietly, waking up. He smiles at her. "Good morning!" He says, cheerfully to her. I know he is being strong for her.

"I'm hungry," she states.

"I know, but the doctor says that you can't have anything to eat until after therapy," I say to my daughter.

She groans unhappily.

I hear a knock at the door. Instantly I feel my heart start to pound in my chest. I don't want to answer it.

"Frankie, there is someone here to see you," Arnold says, speaking for me.

She perks up a little bit and I open the door. It's my father. He is wearing his infamous green polo with the beeper crown emblem. Our eyes meet and I usher him inside. Immediately he walks over to Frankie.

"Hi, Frankie," he says. He kneels down next to her bed.

"Hi," she whispers back to him, staring at him intently. "You are my grandpa, aren't you," there was a certainty in her voice.

"Yes, I suppose I am," he says, chuckling. Suddenly he grows more serious. "I know I was never around before, but how would you like to see me more now?" he asks her quietly.

"I would like that," Frankie says, smiling. I stare at them, wondering how this happened. My dark side hates it, but my good side wants it to continue.

….

We stand in the hall, alone together for the first time in God knows how long.

"I'm sorry, Helga," he says, looking at me. I feel shocked. I didn't expect such humble words out of Big Bob Pataki.

"I'm…sorry too," I reply, rubbing my arm. "I shouldn't have said such nasty things about you the other day,"

"No, you should have," He says. His voice cracks a little bit. "I've made a lot of bad decisions. I thought that if I could just build a big enough kingdom and earn enough money I could fix everything. I figured out the hard way that I couldn't,"

"All I ever wanted was for you to pay attention to me. To help me with my homework and to tell me that you loved me," I say, looking at him. I feel the familiar burning sensation of tears in my eye. I blink it away.

"I know that now,"

He holds my hands and I see the struggle in his eyes. "And I know…I wasn't really there for you when you needed me, and after your mom died, I was just so…bitter. I should have never said those things about you when you came to me for help with Frankie," he says.

Not sure how to respond, I fight the tears again. "I just wanted to be more to you than some sort of trophy. I wanted to be worth more than a beeper,"

He sheds a tear, "You were always more to me than some stupid pager. I was such an idiot not to tell you more. I just want to have a chance to not make the same mistakes I made with you and Olga with Frankie," he says. Suddenly I feel him draw me into an embrace. I cry. This was what I wanted to hear for my entire life. All I ever wanted was to be loved by him. To be loved by my family. To feel like I belonged somewhere special. We are both broken, slowly starting to heal. If only it hadn't taken a world of hurt and pain to bring us together.

"Ms. Pataki?" a voice interrupts. It the nurse.

"Yes?" I ask. I wonder if it's about Frankie.

"There's a phone call from the police station," she says. That's odd, why would they be calling me? I don't get it.

"Ms. Pataki, I have some bad news for you," I hold my breath and my heart slowly sinks in my chest. "Alphonse Scheck escaped from prison last night,"

**To be honest, I don't even know where this story is going right now! Let me know if you have any suggestions!**


	13. The Hiding Place

**Sorry I haven't updated sooner. This chapter was a crazy one! Enjoy :) Also, thanks to all my readers and reviewers, you guys are incredible!**

* * *

I feel nothing.

My mind is reeling with too many emotions for words. One minute I am coping with my daughter's illness, the next I am falling in love with the man of my dreams, the next I am reconciling with my father…

And now this.

Fear creeps into my veins yet again, and I am not sure how to respond. I can't believe this is happening to me of all people. I can't believe Scheck is out of prison. As if I haven't seen my fair share of bad luck. As if I haven't seen my fair share of torture.

I shudder at the startling realization that cancer is not the worst killer my daughter could face.

"How could he possibly escape?!" Arnold shouts behind me, holding out today's paper to me in fury and frustration. Turns out that the locals news knew before I did about what happened.

I whirl around to him and my father, both standing together. They are so vastly different from each other, yet somehow I feel as if they both have my back.

"I don't know," I say in a small voice. I feel so restricted by defeat it's hard to breathe.

A sudden burst of urgency overtakes me. Quickly I push past both of them and head to Frankie's room. I will kill Scheck and his men if they come for my daughter. There she lies, half asleep again, breathing heavily. I want to scream in anger. It feel as if the whole universe is against me.

"The police are sending a force to patrol the area and a couple to come to the hospital and make sure he doesn't try to come here," Arnold informs me, touching my shoulder gently. His hand feel like ice even through my sweater.

"They're too late," I say.

"What do you mean they're too late?"

"He's already almost here…" I say. I don't know how I know. I just do. All I know is that when Scheck is angry, he moves quickly. When he wants revenge, he strikes.

My mind wanders to the tiny handgun in my purse I have been carrying around since Scheck was put behind bars. Somehow I knew that it wasn't over. I wonder if it ever will be.

I grab Arnold's shirt and anxiously stare into his eyes. "We need to get out of here," I demand, running over to Frankie, and waking her up. She stares up at me tiredly. "What's wrong, momma?" she asks, her voice weary. "We need to leave, honey," I tell her, grabbing her coat from the cabinet.

"Helga, are you crazy?" He begs me.

"No, he will be here any minute!" I growl to him, zipping up Frankie's coat.

"No, Helga, that's nuts…"

"Arnold, I worked with the man for too many years. I know how he operates!" I shout back, making sure that Frankie's portable oxygen tank is working. I scoop her into my arms and put her in her wheelchair.

"Momma, what's going on," she murmurs tiredly. She is so pale and ill. Anger boils in my veins again, but I am already wheeling her out of the room.

"Helga!" This time it's my father trying to stop me. "What the hell are you doing?" he asks.

"I'm getting Frankie out of here, we're not safe here," I say too him, brushing past him.

I hear a nurse give a shout to alert the others. "Ma'am you can't leave without a discharge! Ms. Pataki!" I hear someone shout. I'm running now, Arnold by my side.

"Arnold, run and get your car! Hurry," I shout to him. He looks at me reluctantly, but he leaves and sprints to the parking lot. My father, 70 years old, is running beside us, huffing and puffing.

"Helga! This is crazy!" He repeats.

"I know," I say back. Adrenaline running through my body.

I am placing Frankie in the backseat of Arnold's car now, her oxygen tank beside her. I make sure that she is secured safely before I crawl into the passenger seat beside Arnold. My father climbs into the backseat with Frankie.

Out of the corner of my eye I see a black van. The same that I remember from our first encounter with Scheck.

"Step on it!" I scream to Arnold. The car shoots forward.

The black van is following us, and gaining on us.

"Arnold!" I yell, as the van comes up on us.

He pushes the gas as hard as he can, and we screech forward. Dodging the busy Hillwood traffic going 80 miles an hour was already terrifying. Having a killer van behind you makes it even worse.

I pull out my cellphone and dial 911, I explain the situation. "The police are already on their way," I tell Arnold and my father anxiously. Unfortunately, I don't know if it will help very much. The van is still hot on our tail.

"Take this back road. It's a short cut, hopefully we'll lose him," I say, pointing ahead.

"I don't know if I can make the turn! We're going too fast," Arnold says back anxiously, gripping the steering wheel tightly.

"Just do it!" I shout back.

He turns the steering wheel and we barely make the turn. Sure enough the van can't make the turn and comes to a screeching halt. At least it should slow them down.

I sink down in my seat and look back at Frankie. She is resting her head in my father's arms. He looks at me with a concerned look.

"We need to go hide out somewhere. Gerald's place?" Arnold says, struggling to control the speeding car.

"Forget hiding, we need to go straight to the police station!" My father shouts back.

"That's all the way across town. We'd never make it!" I say. "We need to go somewhere that they would never suspect. Somewhere they would never think we would go…"

"Oh, and where's that exactly," My father says sounding agitated.

There is only one place I can think of that I would never go. Opening my purse, I pull out an envelope. One I had been wanting to burn, but for some reason I had hung onto.

"4550 Raleigh Street," I say quietly.

…

We pull up to a quiet townhouse in a neighborhood on the edge of town. I stare up at the brick building, my heart beating a million miles a minute. I don't want to be here, but I know that I need to keep my daughter safe, and for whatever reason, I feel like Scheck won't find us here.

Quickly I get Frankie out of the car and into her wheelchair and wheel her up the walk, Arnold and my father are close behind me.

I feel a tremor run through my hand as I ring the doorbell. I take a deep breath and close my eyes for a second, questioning every reason I am here.

Before I can think, the door swings open.

I blink open my eyes to see someone I had never wanted to see again.

Frankie's father.

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**My goal is to finish this story! REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW! Let me know what you think and what you would like to see **


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